Tom's Story

As the sun set in the west, its fading rays scattered onto the somewhat worn-out walls, reflecting off a faded billboard featuring a starlet with a heart-shaped face holding a trendy smartphone.

The once bustling pedestrian street, alive with music and crowded with people, now stood empty, littered with debris and devoid of vitality. The neatly arranged flowers of yesteryears now grew wild, tangled in clumps of weeds, untouched by human hands. Weeds sprouted from the crevices of the floor and brick walls, with ivy even creeping up some walls.

Beneath the crimson hues, the Precursor No. 6 six-axis aircraft ascended slowly, but inside, most people weren't celebrating their narrow escape; instead, they were immersed in grief.

Staring at the zipped-up body bag, Liu Lian, with bloodshot eyes, asked, "Can I know the captain's name?"

A soldier hesitated for a moment. "The captain's designation is No. 12…"